


A lack of chatting

by pragmatist



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: F/M, episode 97
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:55:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pragmatist/pseuds/pragmatist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lizzie has been waiting all weekend for Darcy to call her back.  She has to face that he hasn't, and probably won't... and she has to face the camera.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A lack of chatting

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little ficlet spinning off from my lip-reading interpretation of the promo for Episode 97. I feel that we are due for a Darcy visit, but only after Lizzie pines a bit, and comes to terms with the intensity of her feelings for Darcy.
> 
> One thing that I am hoping to see in canon is a little bit of "abject begging" from Lizzie. I think she was pretty cruel in the way she mocked Darcy in such a public venue, and I want to see her being candidly apologetic for that. So, here, in my drabble, you see Lizzie beating herself up a little and being regretful.

It was late Sunday afternoon, and Lizzie was waiting for her mother to finish getting ready for the annual “Bennet Family St. Patrick’s Day Extravaganza –“ which basically meant that they all got fancied up, wore green, and went to the most extravagant restaurant in town.  It wasn’t an elaborate tradition, by any means, but it was a once-a-year frivolity that the Bennets had been enjoying since the girls were in primary school.

Lizzie had spent the weekend in a kind of frenetic, mopey, zombie-fied state, somehow both full of energy and wallowing in despair.  Since leaving a message for Darcy on Thursday morning, her phone hadn’t been out of arm’s reach.  She tensed at every chirp and beep and ring over the past three days. The house was spotlessly clean, as she searched for round-the-clock distractions.  She even spent twice as much time getting ready for tonight’s dinner, doing her hair and make-up more glamorously than her ‘norm.’

She sighed and glanced at the wall clock - still over an hour to occupy before their reservation.  She steeled herself, and grabbed her camera and tripod from the corner.  “Might as well get this over with,” she muttered right before she pressed record and settled into her chair.

“Hi everyone!  So… you’re probably wondering what happened after I left that voicemail in my last video.” While Lizzie was smiling, and the words were pleasant, Lizzie’s eyes were telling a different story.  The weekend of waiting, hoping, and longing had dimmed her inner sparkle. 

“Well, what happened is… nothing.” She inhaled sharply and tried to blink away the sting in her eyes.  “He didn’t return my call.”  Lizzie paused and pressed her lips firmly together for a long moment.  When she spoke next, there was a wobble in her voice. “I am not an idiot… I can read the subtext.  If Darcy wanted me in his life, he surely would have called back.  It is obvious that he doesn’t want to be friends…” Lizzie lowered her head, “…or anything else.”

She lifted her chin and made eye contact with the camera lens.  Though she was trying to maintain composure, tears were finding an escape route down her cheeks.  “My name is Lizzie Bennet, and I have no one to blame but Lizzie Bennet.”

“Maybe I am an idiot.” She blinked away some moisture and sniffled.  “I had this guy practically putting a bow on his head and giving himself to me as a gift, and I was stupid and haughty and was totally blind to his virtues.  And it turns out that he is such a wonderful, awesome guy.” The tears were slipping out faster now, and Lizzie wasn’t even bothered with trying to contain them.  “William Darcy is brilliant and generous and compassionate and humble and funny and really _really_ hot and… and… every other positive quality that someone might look for in a partner.  And I discarded him!” She balled up her fists and jabbed her thumbs at her chest.  “Me!  This girl!  This ridiculous, immature, prejudiced, stupid, stupid girl!” Lizzie paused and composed herself.  “I had a chance at something wonderful with him, and I ruined that chance. Too much bias, too much bad timing.  I am so, **so** incredibly sorry for the things I said and the ways that I behaved.  Now, my penance is that I move on and accept a Darcy-less life!”  Lizzie’s chin trembled and her tears welled up.  She closed her eyes and bowed her head.

She heard a quiet rustle cross the den quickly, and sensed movement on the chair next to hers.  “I’ll be fine, Lydia.  Don’t worry about me.”

Then she felt a warm, light, hovering touch on her stooped shoulder… a hand that felt decidedly bigger and more masculine than Lydia’s.  He whispered, “I can’t help but worry about you, Lizzie.” 

Her head shot up, and she found herself flustered under the emotional flurry racing through her, and from the weight of his sky blue scrutiny.  “What…?  Why?  What are you doing here?”

“I got your message. I didn’t think that our ‘chat,’” he paused and smirked at her with one brow arched, “was well-suited to the telephone.  I had to take care of some projects at work, but I wanted to see you as soon as possible.”  Lizzie met his gaze and was lost in the blatant magnitude of his feelings.  Before she could even blink, she saw all of him laid out in front of her, and she knew that everything that made up the heart of William Darcy was still hers for the taking.  She saw a lifetime of love and wonder and bliss stretching in the mere inches between them.  So she did the only thing that felt right. 

Her hand rose and gently rested along the angles of his cheek and jaw.  She leaned towards him and met his mouth with her own, trying to mirror back all of his emotions with the intimate pressure of her lips.  She hoped he could feel the promise there, that she was his for the taking, as well. 

She pulled away with a smile.  He took a shuddering breath and leaned forward so that their foreheads touched.  “William?” Lizzie questioned softly.  “Let’s… chat.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sure to be canonballed on Monday!


End file.
